Blood Brothers
by CocoLime
Summary: Vancha can't bear with the vampaneze customs he's been taught; but it's not so easy to leave the clan. Especially not with a death threat to consider and family to leave behind.


Awriiight...some DSS fanfiction of my own, at last. Typical lazy me didn't feel like writing, until total boredom drove me up to this. XD Nah, I love the series, I'm just a plain ol' lazy-fatass writer.

So if I am, then how is this story up? Blame AnyatheRhymer, for posting at LEAST daily lately, and by doing that annoying the hell outta me. Basically, this is a result of rash competitiveness. XD Ah well, here it is.

OH SHIT!!

DISCLAIMERRR - I don't own the Saga, Cirque du Freak, or whatever it's called in your country; or any o' the characters in it mentioned here!

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**Blood Brothers**

"No! Stop!" he begged, eyes wide with terror. "Let him go! You won't ever have to see him! I-- I'll go with him! I--"

"Silence," his master ordered. "It's his decision to part from the clan - so he dies." Gannen's breath caught in his throat. He turned to his brother.

"Vancha, it's not--"

"It's my de- decision," Vancha said, struggling to keep a confident façade. But his auburn eyes, midway through the transition from hazel to blood-red, betrayed fear. "I-- 'm not-- cant! get used to draining people. It's not right. Maybe I can assume vampire customs, you know? Only take according to my needs." Gannen looked skeptical.

"That-- vampires...disgusting," he said, scorn flashing across his face. "No honor." He mused, for a moment, that they were both trying to control their voices, stammering like there was ice in their teeth. He caught himself smirking and rearranged his expression into something more appropriate. _What the hell was I smiling about?! _he thought to himself. _Thinking about stupid things..._

"Yes." Like a bucket of cold water, his master's voice splashed over him. "That's true, but stop it. We've had this talk before." He faced Gannen. "He's made it clear that he won't bear with our customs, despite our blood in his veins. He wants to leave us - so he dies. One last time, have your final words and we'll make an end of it," he said as kindly as he dared. He stepped back to give the siblings room, knowing that neither nor both could overcome him should escape or attack cross their minds.

Gannen came to Vancha's side. He hesitated, then leaned up to the elder's ear. "Run. Get away. I can-- I can fight him!" he hissed fiercely. But Vancha shook his head.

"You idiot." Gannen looked at him, surprised. "So, to save my life, you give yours? You know you don't stand a chance! Besides, this is how I want it. If I didn't have to die, I'd take it that way, but--"

"Yes! I'd give my life for my brother! And I don't give a crap if you want it or not! You're not going to die!" he shot back. "Hurry! Or he'll--"

"Enough." Gannen was pushed roughly aside. Their master's hand rose menacingly above, poised to kill.

"This is the way of the vampaneze," he stated matter-of-factly. But in his eyes Vancha saw his true meaning - an apology. Then the hand blurred back and sharply reversed its direction, even faster.

"STOP!"

Carmine eyes widened. Gannen coughed blood, his breathing labored as he struggled for air to speak. "Michael Fouss--" His master's name dashed from his lips. Purple fingers withdrew from his shoulder and he choked.

"You should know-- I'd - I'd give my life for my brother."

Climactic silence ensued. Suddenly a substantial spill of blood cascaded from Gannen's shoulder, he drew in a sharp gasp of pain, and the still was shattered.

"Gannen!" Vancha rushed forward to brace his brother. "Why the _hell_ did you do that?" A black shadow swooped over them.

"He acted like a true vampaneze, defending his kin." Micheal Fouss spit into his hands and rubbed saliva into the wound he'd afflicted on his assistant. He took Gannen's uninjured shoulder and lightly tugged his center of support onto himself, away from Vancha.

Vancha's eyes flashed annoyance.

"Look, you can kill me or _whatever_ you want later, but let me wait to see till Gannen's alright, okay?" And he pulled Gannen toward him. Fouss pulled back. Vancha tugged at his brother's arm.

"Stop it!" Gannen ground out in a low growl of agony.

"Leave."

Both brothers looked at their master in confusion. "Uh...what?"

"I said to leave," he snapped. "Take your leave, as you wished, and never seek the vampaneze again. Not even," he gestured toward the man in his arms. Vancha succeeded these words with a shocked pause.

"I-- I'm staying until he gets better," he finally got out. The red eyes blazed like fire.

"Leave. Or your brother's actions will be wasted."

"But - "

"This is your chance, now _leave, _before I kill you as I should," he snarled. Gannen struggled against his grip in protest, and something garbled ripped from his lips, but blood blocked proper words from forming.

"Silence, boy." He looked at Vancha. "Make your decision. You may walk free, or stay for Gannen and die when you see he's fine." Vancha's round eyes widened even more.

"I-- " He caught sight of Gannen's pleading eyes. _Go, _they begged of him. His head bowed. "Good...bye."

"And never return."

He raised his eyes to lock gazes a last time with the brother he loved so much. He was startled to see tears forming in Gannen's eyes. But then a pang of sorrow struck him as he realized he would probably never see him again, and that drops were dashing down his own face.

_No._

This was pathetic. Two years of vampaneze pride kicking in, he straightened his neck, turned around, and didn't look back.

"So long," he said, straining his throat not to lump.

"So long, Vancha Harst," came his master's - master no longer, he thought - voice. He tried not to think about Gannen, not to break down, not to run back and embrace the vampaneze customs he'd followed for the last few years.

_No!_

He walked away until the flickering light of their campfire disappeared into the darkness, then fell to his knees in the moonlight at the edge of the woods. He coughed in a last attempt at staunchness.

_Stop it!_

But this time he didn't listen to his pride and gave up, desolate, allowing the sobs rack his body.

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...Right...as it turns out, it took a week to post this from the time I started this. 

Ah well. It's up. A week's not bad for my fat-lazy-ass writing side, so I won't complain. XD Sorry if it's overdramatized or anything, or if the sentence patterns repeat or whatev. I was too lazy to edit properly. XD Maybe I should get a beta. Well, anyhow, if you've read this far through this depressing story, might as well review, huh?

Go click that button! ...Please...?


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